Feeling Trapped
by mysteriouscastrophy
Summary: After Neal Caffrey he finds out Kate has died, he decides that life isn't worth living. WARNING: This story contains suicide. If this is offensive/disrespectful to you; do not read or review/message me about it. Thanks


_**Feeling Trapped**_

_AN:/ This is a one shot about Neal Caffrey after he finds out Kate has died. This is nothing like I have written before. Be aware that this story contains suicide and is written rather dark. If this is offensive/disrespectful to you; please I'm asking you do not read or comment/review/message me about it. _

The world appears a lot smaller; bleak without her. I can't provide enough oxygen to satisfy my lungs to breathe any longer. I am unable, incapable to salvage the sane fragments left over in my mind. I remember all the strange memories, flooding consistently into my head. Flashing memories of what used to be; what is all but vanished now. I bear in mind when everything used to be perfect.

I always dreamed that we could roam the world together; just our two hands, our two hearts beating at the same note. We could gaze beneath the stars till morning erased them away, until a giant red dawn erupted across the horizon.

I never thought I would be existing alone at her grave site, I never would have thought for a second that I would lose her so unexpectedly. That she would be taken from my arms so swiftly.

They came across her body, burnt to something completely unrecognizable.

Peter promised me that the whole thing was an accident; he promised that it wasn't meant to happen. Of course not. It didn't go as planned. I wasn't on the plane with her. I wasn't turned to ashes.

I was human flesh with a rotting soul.

I thought about her death for days, how unfair life seemed to actually be. I had finally gotten back on my feet, I had finally found a job a sense of who I was and where I was going. I had even found her.

Everything had been taken away from me now; everything that had ever mattered.

I awoke from my thoughts to find my body wondering aimlessly throughout the one bedroom complex, I actually owned in New York City. My cell phone had ultimately stopped tolerating incoming messages. My voicemail was completely occupied now. Overflowing with Peters words, jam packed with pleading vocabulary to come back, to just, please; answer his call. Then there were his threats to put me back in prison. And all the apologies to revoke those same empty threats. Eventually the calls were left without any threats, pleading or apologies. Just compact with thoughts; empty blank words.

I almost have a high desire for him to put me back into prison. An impenetrable gray wall encaging me with broad iron bars, away from the rest of the world. As if I wasn't existent anymore. It would feel no different from this clutter; it would feel nothing like what I've had to comply with since I lost her for good. I looked up from the dim cemented windows to see people walking by. I didn't seem to recognize where I was. This entire place was crowded and it hardly made sense to me. How is it possible that in a crowd so large, full of people all around you; you feel completely alone?

I looked around for a moment, wondering if some law enforcer would suddenly show up and take me away. I knew that if that was the case they would have showed up the moment I stopped answering any sort of phone call. I hardly even cared if they did, anymore.

I just hoped that they would bring a gun with them.

There was no point in going on like this anymore, not point in continuing on like this. She would have never wanted me to suffer like I have been. I know she would have wanted me there with her, when her life was taken. But, no. Peter had stopped me from boarding that plane. Peter had made me stay behind. Peter had made her die; he had 'saved' my life.

It was his fault, Peter had done this.

I fell back from the window dropping the blinds. I could put the blame on everyone I wanted. It would never bring her back.

I would have to go to her.

I made up my mind; I didn't have any more tears to shed. I was dry and empty. Born and dead. I looked over to the warm oak desk, it had more appeal to me than anything else had sense she left this life.

I stroked open a case, in it held my last breath.

I pulled out a gun, colder then my heart. I pressed my fingers close to the trigger before bringing it to my temple.

I steadied my aim and felt my eye lids fall, one last thought tore through my mind.

Kate.

_AN:/ I just wanted to address any of my readers that are struggling with suicide, please seek help. I lost someone close to me because of suicide. The people who care about you; The person you could have been; The moments that you missed; The life you could have had will be lost. Things can always change, don't miss out on the days you were granted. The days that someone else would have wanted more than anything._


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